What Skaia Saw
by CaptainPumpkinPie
Summary: Drabbles based on one-word prompts. Multiple characters, pairings, and settings. Review to vote for next chapter. Prompt One: Stranger.
1. Stranger

**Prompt: **Stranger.  
**Character(s): **John Egbert/Vriska Serket.

"So . . . you don't remember me at all?"

You feel the snowflakes pile on your eyelashes, try to see through them, to see John's face. His bright blue eyes search your expression. Fortunately, you're good at concealing your emotions; to him, you sound nothing more than curious and look only mildly interested. Inside, you are tearing in half.

You don't need to hear him say no. You know it's coming. You know he doesn't remember, and you're nothing more than an internet troll to him. Someone who inconvenienced him for a few minutes and he forgot about soon after.

He doesn't recall everything you did for him, his ascension to the God Tier. In this timeline he died before you interfered.

You want to tell him. There's so much you shared together, like Nic Cage and Con Air. You said things to him that you would never dream of saying to anyone else. And now none of that matters to him.

"Oh. Man, that sucks!" you laugh. He smiles when you do. He mistakes your smile for one that's carefree, when it's one of heartbreak. But again, you're trained to keep up a front. He doesn't realize.

"Yeah." He notices your bare arms and takes off his jacket, handing it to you. "Here. Wouldn't want you to freeze to death!"

He laughs at the joke — you're both dead, trapped in a dream bubble. You accept the fluffy jacket and put it on, instantly warming up. He doesn't seem to mind the cold, and if he does, he doesn't show it.

"So I'm really sorry I'm not the John you're looking for," he says in a robotic accent. It's a Star Wars joke. You can't help but laugh. "But maybe I can show you around Earth? I think it's kind of nice, anyway."

"Sure, John."

You follow him onto the street, and it hurts, but you can't stop smiling.


	2. Warmth

**Prompt: **Warmth.

**Character(s): **Nepeta Leijon/Equius Zahhak.

You are Nepeta Leijon and your morail is coming over today!

You've been up since sunset trying to get your cave ready. After cleaning up as much as you can, making sure Pounce De Leon behaves himself, and covering your Shipping Wall (you'll save that for later, or maybe never), you think everything looks good. You hope.

The truth is you've only been to Equius's hive. You're well acquainted with it, and even know your way around. But you've avoided inviting him to your cave-hive. You think he'll look down on you when he sees your living conditions, compared to the splendors of his abode. It's already taken so long to get him to look past your low blood color.

You hear footsteps outside, panic, and scamper to the mouth of the cave. You see Equius approaching. He is sweating profusely. You've anticipated his perspiration and hold out a towel when he arrives, which he accepts graciously.

"Thank you." Once he's dried completely, he hangs the towel on a hook on the wall and appraises the cave. "It is very . . . drafty."

You don't know what to say. You expected "low class" or something similar. The cold breeze that whistles into the cave from holes in the ceiling and the entrance hasn't bothered you, only because you're wearing an oversized coat. You've learned how to combat the chill over the years.

"Sorry," you say, offering the coat. "Here, this is yours anyway."

"No. I cannot." He holds up a gloved hand. "As a responsible morail, I will put the needs of my partner before my own."

You giggle at his mannerisms and lead him further into your hive. Pounce De Leon watches from a corner but does nothing to cause trouble; you are grateful and silently promise to pamper him later. Equius doesn't seem to mind your rural cave and goes so far as to say, "How charming."

"So?" you ask when he's seen everything. "What do you think?"

His cracked sunglasses flash as he gives the cave another look. "It is a fitting hive. I approve."

You grin, elated, and pounce on him. "Best meow-rail ever!"

You curl into his side on the ground. The night has been stressful, to say the least, but now you wonder why you ever worried.

"I am no longer cold," he announces, and you purr.


End file.
